


Death's Favorite Child

by skybluemullet



Category: South Park
Genre: Child Neglect, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Issues, Gen, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4459145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skybluemullet/pseuds/skybluemullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still only a kid, Kenny McCormick is already accustomed to the horrible things that happen to him on a daily basis. But when his parents fight, death's favorite child can only think about one thing. It's Kevin and his job to take care of their younger sister, Karen, and in those moments, she's all that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death's Favorite Child

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction has been sitting on my computer for months, and it's finally seeing the internet for the first time. A friend of mine, CaptainSunder (please check her wonderful work), helped me out by quickly revising it. I apologize if there are any mistakes - I haven't had a chance to look it over - but I have faith that she caught most of them.
> 
> I just really wanted to write some cute McCormick siblings. I feel bad every time Kevin is depicted as a bad guy, so I wanted to show him as a softer character. This fic is really close to my heart, so I hope you guys like it!

Kenny McCormick is not afraid of death.

To him death is an old friend that comes by every-so-often to survey childhood with him. For a 10 year old, he’s lived a million lifetimes, and death always reminds him of the calming details as she scrapes her cold grip against his trembling hands. But just as quickly as she comes, whispering into his ear sweet tales of a peace he will never feel, she vanishes.

She is all talk and no bite, so Kenny knows that he has nothing to fear from her.

What he does fear is the calm before the storm - paper plates rubbing against drunken hands as the table is set, the sloshing of alcohol in a half-empty bottle to the tune of NASCAR announcers and engines revving on the TV, but most of all, the sound of a smaller child’s stomach growling beside him on the couch.

These are the things that scare Kenny McCormick.

They are nastier and more frequent than any death he has or ever will experience – of that, he is certain. And as a bottle smacks against the broken tile of their run down kitchen, he tries his hardest not to tremble as violently as the little girl clenching tightly to the sleeve of his worn-out, orange parka.

This is, after all, an event that he’s all too familiar with. His parents are once again at a stand-off, both unwilling to be criticized in their own house, but eager enough to become monsters in the eyes of the delicate brunette, who whispers into Kenny’s ear that she is frightened.

Despite their frequent harmful behavior, Kenny’s mother and father are not bad people.

There are times when they are like the multi-colored lights that sparkle against the ornaments on the white, plastic Christmas tree in the corner – Kenny’s all-time favorite thing in the world right under his best friends, Kyle and Stan.

His mother, for instant, takes Karen and him to the discount store to pick up cake mix almost every time their food stamps come in, and sometimes she even tucks the 4th grader into bed at night, gently wiping his unruly bangs out of his eyes as she places a gentle kiss against his forehead and whispers that tomorrow will be different and that she will do better.

Kenny likes to believe that’s true, but he doesn’t dwell on the promise too much anymore.

His father is much the same. On his off days, the old man takes Kevin and Kenny outside to teach them how to fix the engine that keeps going out in their old pickup. The two kids always laugh under their breath as their dad mispronounces one of those fancy words he’s heard on the news in passing when he’s flipping the channels.

At those times, Kenny swears that he can hear his dad say “I love you” under his breath as he tightens bolts or wipes his sons’ faces clean with his oil stained work rag. Kenny’s heard that you can’t dream of faces you’ve never seen, so he hopes that the same goes for words too.

At the current moment, however, his parent’s voices are not quiet but instead rise as high as the mountains outside and have no hint of love in their tone.

The eldest McCormick exits his room in a mild panic as a chair topples over in his father’s hopeless attempt at getting out of the way of his wife’s warpath.

There is purple and red lining Kevin’s eyes that serve as a reminder of his bad influence on the same siblings in which he is currently frantically searching. He’s been fighting in school a lot lately – anger often becoming a replacement for a full belly and attention that most children require, but somehow he always seems scared to Kenny when the storm hits their living room.

Once he’s spotted their little faces from behind the sofa, Kevin’s expression softens, and he sneaks in as his mother scolds Stuart for being a bad role model for their two boys. Kenny doesn’t focus in school and Kevin’s been coupling his fights with skipping classes, shining replicas of their father back in his glory days – detention slips like medals of honor.

The older of the two boys seems unaffected by their words as if he’s accepted his role as an excuse for the two to release their drunken fury, but Kenny notices how glassy his eyes are and the small sniffle he sucks in as he takes Kenny’s hand and nods his head towards his still open bedroom door. “Come on.”

The younger of the two is thankful that Kevin has chosen not to join the fight this time, and follows quickly behind him, pulling Karen close to his side – the two’s gloved hands becoming steadier now that they are connected to the largest one in a small chain of neglected adolescence.

Kenny isn’t normally allowed into Kevin’s room. In fact, the only one who goes in there anymore besides its owner is their father when he finds it necessary to discuss his son’s bad behavior at school, which normally just results in a cussing fight that leaves the younger siblings escaping to the Tucker household so that Karen can play with Ruby while Craig does exactly what Kenny needs him to do - not talk about what’s going on at home.

Kenny thinks he likes Craig’s company more than the other boys at those times. Kyle would probably panic and hold Kenny too tightly while Stan would awkwardly pat his back and mumble out that it would get better. And sure, Kenny was thankful for their efforts, but sometimes he just needed to be ignored and Craig was good at that. He didn’t ask too many questions, and he let Kenny wallow in his situation without having to point out that there’s dirt on his hands.

Tonight, however, is one of those special occasions when Kevin isn’t being dragged into the middle of their parents feuding, so the three kids don’t seem so distant as they can tuck themselves safely into the confines of Kevin’s room like the thin, red walls are made oftitanium.

The light bulb on the ceiling flickers as some appliance in the kitchen is apparently ripped from the socket. The kids all stumble close to the bed at the large booming sound. It makes Karen jump forward and grab the back of Kevin’s jacket with her free hand.

Kevin glances down at her, a sad smile tugging on his lips as he lowers himself on one knee and takes her hand from the fabric and into his own once he’s released Kenny.

“Uh, Princess McCormick, I hope you dun mind but my castle is a little dirty.” The brunet boy quickly falls into character as Kenny pulls himself away from exploring the messy jumble of beer cans and magazines that is his brother’s room, to instead focus on the small play that is unfolding in front of him.

It’s a rare sight to see Kevin interact with Karen openly, so Kenny soaks up every minute as if it were the finale of his favorite show. It’s amazing to him that once the little girl is looking at her older brother, she always brightens up and doesn’t look quite so scared anymore.

Kenny wonders if she looks at him the same way sometimes and he’s just so blinded by rage when someone dares threaten her that he can’t see it, or if these looks are reserved for only Kevin and another unique look is for him. He’s not sure which one he’d prefer, but he likes the way her eye grow a little wider and her nose winkles up with her smile.

The middle child also ponders if he looks at her the same way Kevin is now. He hopes that he does and that his parka doesn’t hide the amazement that he feels at the sight of her smile.

This makes him think back to when he was a kid and the same thing would happen, except instead of Princesses, the two boys would play superheroes. His brother had given Kenny the secret identity of “Mysterion” and explained that he didn’t have anything to be afraid of because he couldn’t die.

_No one can hurt someone who can’t die._

He’s aware that Kevin can’t possibly know the truth, but when he gets really down during the mornings after he’s comes back to life and no one seems to notice, he replays his brother’s words and pretends.

“It’s not dirty at all, Prince Kevin! In fact, it’s the nicest kingdom I’ve ever seen, but…” Karen tries to mimic the way the princesses in movies act as she motions with her open hand to Kenny, her voice a sunny mixture of innocence and fleeting fear. “…that’s Princess McCormick and I’m Lady Karen.”

Kevin raises a single eyebrow at his younger brother and makes a face that says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” but he doesn’t let Karen see this. It is surprising that she is already engulfed in the game, and it’s not worth breaking character and exposing her to the world outside their small hideout.

“Kenny’s Princess McCormick? But why aren’t ya the princess?”

Another loud string of cussing near the thin door that separates the three kids from the wrath outside shakes Karen’s small frame in returning fear. Kevin is quick to steady her by taking her other hand in his, and Kenny repositions himself between his siblings and the door as he turns the lock for some extra security.

_No one can hurt someone who can’t die,_ he reminds himself as he tries to look unfazed.

Karen sniffles a few times before she explains, “Kenny has pretty blond hair like a princess, and since I’m always at the Princess’s side, that makes me a Lady. Right, Princess?”

The two glances up a Kenny from their spots on the cigarette singed carpet, so he curtseys and covers his mouth with his hand as he musters up the girliest giggle he can. “That’s right, Lady Karen.”

Rules of the McCormick Kingdom state that if Karen needed to be calmed down, then what she says goes. If Karen says Kenny was a princess and Kevin was a prince, then white trash royalty they would be.

“I must’ve been wrong. Sorry…” Kevin trails off, giving Kenny another confused glance before leaving this 10-year-old sized bone thrown into the middle of his game alone. “Well, I don’t know much about tea parties, Pri- I mean, Lady Karen, but I was hopin’ you’d throw one of ‘em for me and Princess Kenny.”

“Why certainly.” Karen releases her eldest brother’s hand and shuffles across the room to an old coffee table that Kevin got after one of the legs broke off and their parents had to replace it with the “gently used” one in the living room. Now it stands only with the assistance of a pile of unused textbooks and is littered with baseball cards and old comic books that Kenny always steals when Kevin leaves them in community spaces.

The surface of the table is quickly cleaned off by Karen’s eye for detail and she waits patiently as Kevin digs through his closet for the emergency dinner supplies.

The noises outside haven’t gone down much, but Kenny can no longer hear the sound of the TV, even when he puts his ear to the door. He listens carefully as he tries to pick out what the adults are saying, but Kevin won’t have that.

The older kid emerges from his closet with a bag of paper plates and a trio of red solo cups that Kenny remembers him stealing a few months back. He barks out an order to keep Kenny away from the door. “Princess, get the tea and desserts out of my ba – um, uh…” he stutters, nostrils flared as he glances between Kenny and Karen for the right word.

“Royal pantry?” Kenny suggests as he retrieves his brother’s special book bag from underneath his bed.

“Yeah, royal pantry,” Kevin confirms as he hands the dishes over to his sister. “Here are the tea cups and plates.”

“Why thank you, Prince Kevin.” The two grin at each other as they both take a seat on the ground by the table. Karen quickly arranges the items so that there are three separate place settings. “Princess, if we don’t hurry, the food will get cold,” Karen calls as her stomach grumbles.

Kenny digs through the black bag, eyeing the different nonperishable foods that his brother has stored away for these “tea parties.” He retrieves a can of spam along with an old bag of crackers, as well as a single soda can that Kevin must’ve brought home from his lunch last week when they kids all got one as a special lunch treat for the school’s anniversary.

Kenny is more thankful for South Park Elementary than he will ever admit.

He also finds two snack cakes that normally come with the free lunches the school provides. Kevin always does this, bringing home the desserts when possible, because sometimes he gives them to Kenny or Karen when there isn’t much dinner.

Kenny makes a bowl with the bottom part of his parka and shoves the foods inside. He waddles across the room and dumps the food onto the middle of the table. Faking another feminine giggle, he curtseys and takes a seat at the open setting.

“Prince Kevin, will you do the honors of carving the turkey and pouring the tea,” Karen politely asks as she removes her red gloves.

“Of course, Lady McCormick.” Kevin bows his head in her direction and proceeds to open the can and plop out the contents onto his plate. He uses a cracker to divide the meat in three separate sections – two of which are slightly larger than the third.

Karen watches the display with true amusement as Kenny removes his hood and stares down the door. His parents are keeping their same volume but it is muffled by the distance.

He hopes the police don’t get called again. He doesn’t want his parents to go to prison.

Kevin notices how emerged he is in the door and snaps his fingers. “Princess Kenny, hold up your plate.”

Kenny does as he is told, his own tummy rumbling as one of the bigger rectangles of gooey meat substance is plopped onto his plate, followed by a handful of crackers. Waiting patiently, he tries to focus on their game.

The other larger piece is offered to Karen and she takes it without noticing, but Kenny does. Kevin saves the smaller for himself. He divides the remaining crackers between them and then pops open the soda and pours an equal amount into each cup.

“Honored guests,” Karen announces, “tea is served.”

The three children all nod towards each other before digging into their meal as if it really is a fancy feast set out in front of them. There is small talk of the unicorns in Princess Kenny’s kingdom and questions about whether Prince Kevin would be married soon to take his rightful place as King of his kingdom. He blushes, Kenny notes, but he is fast to deny the rumors.

It’s not until it’s time for dessert that Kenny is pulled back into his reality. Kevin offers the two snack cakes to his siblings and leaves the table to grab some paper and sharpies from his dresser drawer. The oldest McCormick sibling is more generous today than he normally is. This level of kindness is rare, but somehow it makes it that much better – it somehow means more.

Kenny unwraps the plastic around his cake and rips it in half, offering one half back to Kevin once he returns with the art supplies. His brother’s lip twitches and despite the fact that he looks so unsure, he takes the cake and takes a bite out of its side. “Thanks, Princess.”

“You’re welcome, good sir.”

Just as the sibling bonding in the room starts to grow, however, loud banging causes all three kids to freeze in their spots. Three sets of brown eyes glue to the direction of the sound, and a loud voice bellows through its surface.

“Shit! Open up, you damn kids.” It’s their father who calls in a slurred voice.

Karen, in a panic, covers her ears with her hands and grips Kenny’s hand. Her hands are sticky from the cake she’s been eating, but Kenny doesn’t mind.

“Fuck off, asshole!” Kevin calls back in response as he collects the plates into a pile and wipes Karen’s hands with a dirty shirt that was on the ground close by. He hands it to Kenny after he finishes in a silent order to wipe his own hands.

“Don’t you talk to me that way! You’re my kids, goddamn it!”

“They are _our_ kids, not _your_ kids!” his mother yells as another bang vibrates through the door frame. “They dun want to talk to you, ya piece of shit!”

“I don’t get any fuckin’ respect in my own house!”

“ _Our_ house!” Carol McCormick corrects, bringing on a whole new fight between the two.

Kenny wipes at Karen’s hand with the dirty shirt before releasing her. He grabs two pieces of paper off the top of the pile and begins folding. He’s been practicing every day at school for this exact reason. Karen always likes his origami, so he’s started learning special folds just for her.

Despite his attempts to entertain her, the little girl continues crying as Kevin retrieves his cd player off his dresser and slides the bulky headphones over his little sister’s head. He presses the play button and sits down close beside her with his back against the table’s edge and his elbow rested against its top.

Kenny continues to fold to the sounds of his parents yelling and muffled classic rock that he doesn’t recognize. Karen has her face in her hands now as saltwater tears glide down her cheeks and through the spaces between her fingers.

The littlest McCormick hides her face against the side of her eldest brother as she gasps out jagged breathes. The older boy lazily rubs his palm against her back while he glances out into empty space and tries to calm himself down first.

The whole scene just makes Kenny work faster, and after a few more creases and a little push to combine the two folded pieces of paper, he takes the small creature and makes its head boop against his sister's. “Karen, there is someone who wants to meet you.”

Karen refuses at first, burying her face further into Kevin’s jacket. But once she hears Kenny let out a sound similar to that of a horse nickering, her head pops up and she wipes the large tears from the corners of her eyes.

“Lady Karen,” Kenny announces, as he holds the paper unicorn out with one hand and places the other on his heart. “I, as princess of the unicorns, bestow onto you one of my most prized stallions. He will protect you forever more.”

The smile on Karen’s face stretches against her rosy cheeks and completely outshines the tears that were once there. She turns and shows the paper craft to Kevin, brightening up even more as he too flashes a smile in her direction.

“He’s very beautiful. Keep ‘im close, okay?” Kevin glances at Kenny and nods once in thanks. The two brothers aren’t very close – Kenny doesn’t even know what Kevin’s really like – but what they do know is that both of them love the little girl gripping the unicorn and they also love each other, even if neither of them will admit it.

“I will.”

Outside their little haven, it becomes quieter. Kenny hears the screen door on their home slam and the voices retreat. He assumes his father is once again running off to the bar. His mother will most certainly follow.

He hopes they stay out of trouble.

Kevin takes the new silence as a way to get the siblings all cuddled up together for the night. He taps the littlest McCormick and points to the middle of his bed. “Karen. It’s bed time. Go get tucked it.” He glances at Kenny, voice stern. “You too. Ya gotta go to school in the mornin’ no matter what.”

Kenny nods in response and follows closely behind Karen. He takes the side of the bed closest to the wall, and cuddles in tight, allowing her more space. After turning off the light, Kevin falls in at the end, his body shaking the mattress as he flops down. Karen is in the middle, cuddled closely between her siblings and still tightly clenching the unicorn to her chest.

The house is silent as the oldest boy tucks the three of them in. No one even attempts to unlock the door or check on their parents. It’s safer to just pretend that the two adults don’t exist for a moment. And while that hurts Kenny more than he is willing to admit, he ignores the feeling in preference of the little hand clenching the side of his orange parka.

Breaking the silence, Kevin makes one more attempt at settling the thick atmosphere that their parents have created. He extends a single, stained finger towards the ceiling fan and lets out a small gasp. Against the dusty surface is a single glow-in-the-dark star that blurs with the ferocity of the fan. It’s been there as long as Kenny can remember, but it still brightens up the cloudy air of his mind.

“A shooting star, Karen! Make a wish,” Kevin insists with a level of forged excitement that the younger boy didn’t know was possible.

Before the words even get completely out of Kevin’s mouth, from the glow of the street lights outside the widow, Kenny notices that Karen’s eyes are clenched tightly. She is wishing with all her might, so he too closes his eyes and pushes some of his wishing abilities her way.

He doesn’t have much, he is aware, but for Karen, maybe it’ll be enough to make whatever it is come true.

As she finishes, hand tightening against Kenny’s jacket, he asks her in a whisper, “What did you wish for?”

She smiles, glancing over at him with large brown marbles and shakes her head. “Can’t tell you! It won’t come true if I do.”

Kenny nods, content with the answer. At least the little angel still has some of her innocence, and that’s good enough to keep him satisfied.

“Then I won’t tell either.” Kevin is the one who speaks up this time, hand over his chest as he refuses to break contact with the ceiling. He seems more mature to Kenny at the moment, like a father telling his children that there isn’t a monster under the bed.

The problem is that Kenny’s seen the monster. It is liquid in a bottle; it is drugs pumping through veins. It is red inked bills and empty piggybanks. It is all those little things that stack on top of each other to make their household what it is – a decaying mess of lower class destruction.

To Kenny’s surprise, like all good fake dads, the brunet somehow knows what his artificial kids are truly afraid of. He knows they’d seen the beast because he too had been fighting with it since he was a kid.

He smiles and rolls over to face his siblings. “I will tell ya what I’m gonna do though. Once I git old enough, I’m gunna get a job and git you two out of here,” Kevin confesses with a new found gusto as Karen yawns and snuggles into the stained sheets. “It’ll be better for all of us. That’s not a wish – It’s a promise.”

Kenny stares at his brother for a moment, unsure how to express the warmth rising in his belly at the words, so he nods softly instead – his head still lazily rested against the side of the dirty pillow. He wants to believe that Kevin is telling the truth. He wants to believe that this sadness in his heart won’t be normal one day. He wants a normal life for his siblings.

So, for now, he believes in his older brother’s untapped potential. For now, he will let himself indulge in make believe that has his little sister snoring lightly at his side.

He believes that this will get better.

“Get some sleep, kid,” Kevin says as if he understands Kenny’s silence. He turns over on his side, facing out like an iron-clad guard protecting a hoard of treasure, and huffs out a deep sigh. “Wake me up if you hear anything. Sweet dreams.”

_I don’t want sweet dreams,_ the middle child thinks, rubbing at his salty eyes, _this is enough._

It’s true, as stupid as it sounds. Kenny is lucky, and he knows it. He has an older brother who watches over him and a little sister who needs him. Hell, he even has two best friends who would probably invite him to a million of their sleepovers if they knew what his normal was.

And that is enough for him.

That is all he needs. That is all he deserves.

So, as the three siblings give into sleep - bodies nestled together in a warm embrace - Kenny burns in the warmth in his belly that blackens like a distant memory at first. It’s a feeling that he’d almost forgotten.

It is fear, and it’s stronger than anything he has felt in a while.

For the first time, Kenny McCormick is afraid of death.

He is afraid of that inevitable moment when his family will once again mourn his passing. He’s frightened of his brother's shadow against this very mattress as sleep refuses to reach him through the smog of regrets and past mistakes. He’s terrified by the thought of his sister being alone during these storms of rage that will persist even beyond his death – maybe even because of it.

But most of all, he’s petrified of the day that it will be him in their places instead, because if this curse doesn’t leave him, he will be the last royal member of the McCormick kingdom. That was unacceptable. A life without Karen and Kevin’s love is one that Kenny never wants to experience, and even the thought of it shakes him to his core.

With the revelation fresh on his mind, he looks back to the ceiling and prays that even with all the wishing power he’s given to Karen, there is still some spark of magic inside of his shell of a heart. He clenches his eyes just as the little brunette had and lets his knuckles turn white against the edge of the sheet.

With every fiber of his being, he wishes and prays and swears before any greater power that will hear him that if they protect the two sleeping bodies beside him, he will give up any happiness he has left. He will spend his life fighting off demons if he can just have a single promise that Karen and Kevin won’t be stuck in this hell with him.

At the lack of reassurance that the wish provides, however, for the first time in a long while, Kenny cries. He buries his face against the chipping paint of the wall and silently sobs out in desperate need for a comfort that no one can provide.

Death doesn’t visit him when he is like this. She likes to bask in his pain, he assumes, so she doesn’t act. For this, even with splintering pain ripping through his chest, he is truly thankful. So as he wipes huge globs of water from his freckled face, he whispers a small declaration of gratitude and cuddles in close to his little family.

He might be afraid of Death - her hand ghosting across the back of his neck as assurance of a future visit - but tonight she’s proven once again;

_Kenny McCormick is her favorite child._

 

 


End file.
